Lithuania
by A Whimsical Dream
Summary: A short ficlet about Lithuania and Poland. Inspired by the fact Lithuania has the highest Suicide rate in the world


Lithuania stood in his bathroom, staring into the mirror. The water was running in the sink and pouring down the drain. His eyes drifted down to the counter-top and then to the left. He looked down to the middle drawer and gingerly reached out to open the drawer. After sliding the drawer open, he withdrew a small metal object, the small object was about six inches long, it was textured on one side, the side of which was pressed against his palm. The other side was smooth and it was a dark brown almost black colour that shined in the dim lighting from the electic lighting of the room. In the centre of the object was an all too familiar symbol. A symbol that was raised up higher then the rest of the object and was outlined in gold. A symbol that was special to him and his beloved friend Poland. It was the coat of arms of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth which was held dear to him from 1569–1795.

The object was thick about an inch in width. The object seemed to have small instruments tucked away inside of it, three one one side, the side that was closer to his fingers held three objects items with small indents on the side, the other had a solid metal bar and it was slick. Shakily, Lithuania drew in deep breaths as he turned the object so the dull solid metal side was against his right palm and with his left, found the small ridge in the largest item, which when pulled turned out to be a six inch long blade which he stared at with a dull apathetic expression.

He stood there for a few moments just staring, his eyes closed and he moved the blade of the army knife so it was pressed lightly against the skin of his wrist. He began shakily applying pressure and in a swift horizontal movement created thin pink lines across the skin of his wrist, which he repeated till the skin broke, applying as much pressure as he could to sever the radial artery and the ulnar artery. He watched as the pink lines disappeared and was replaced by thin lines of crimson, which seemed to grow thicker as the seconds ticked passed.

After a few moments, the shock and pain set in, and Lithuania let out a sharp cry of pain, by this time blood was rolling gently down his wrist and down his arm, dripping to the floor, with small little echos in his ears. He didn't have time to do anything to stop the water as he broke down to his knees, just staring at his own blood which seemed to go on forever, never slowing.

Before, He knew it the door was pushed open in a hurried manner. "Like, Liet!!!!" He heard from a familar voice. His head snapped up and he felt tears, which had been unshed for years build in his eyes. "P-Poland..."He said shakily, as the blond quickly moved to kneel infront of him, lightly taking his hand. "Like, Liet, what the hell did you do?" Poland asked his partner in a worried tone, his right hand pressed over the bleeding wound as the other was trying to get a wash-cloth to wet down to clean off the other's wound, and patch him up.

Lithuania flinched when he realized how upset he made his dear Poland. His mind registered the pained expression, and his heart was breaking. "Poland. I'm sorry..."He whispered and felt as if he was sobbing, though he felt very little. He did feel the towel wrapped around his wrist, the pressure being used to stop the bleeding but that was virtually it, till he felt his face being lifted by a pair of soft, warm, familiar hands. He closed his eyes which forced his tears to be shed as the petit blond pressed his lips to the brunette's.

Lithuania kissed Poland back and then pulled away and held onto him. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."He whispered over and over again, as the pole just rubbed comforting circles on his back. Lithuania calmed down and stared at Poland then, forced a smile. "I am sorry... I really am..." He said, and looked back to the floor, where his army knife laid, disgarded. "Like, Liet, why use our knife? the blade was old, you could like... kill yourself for real." Poland said, his own army knife being pulled out so that he could rip the material of his shirt to make a makeshift bandage, which he tied around the other's wrist, tightly. His army knife snapped shut and fell to the floor as he pressed another kiss to Lithuania's mouth.

The two were together again. Their knifes were together, Lithuania's dark and Poland's light, the army knifes were the same as them.

Lithuania was tainted and dark, but Poland was his light to that darkness.


End file.
